Eleven Weeks (31 page)

“Sure thing.” Lee smiles.

“Sweet. I’ll see ya from the crowd.” Michael darts out of the room, and I turn to follow but am stopped when a hand grabs my arm.

“Stacey?” Lee asks.

I turn and face possibly the hottest man I’ve ever met. Yet I have no desire to screw him. There’s only one sexy musician I wanna see naked anytime in my future.

“Don’t screw him over.” I blink.
What?
“He’s a good kid. And dating a guy in a band is hard. Just be in it for the long haul, yeah?”

At least the answer to this question is easy.

“I can be that girl,” I say, and I smile.

Because this is one person I know I want to be.

T
HE REST
of the night passes in a blur. Kate uses the microphone to say a few words, and then Lee takes the stage and sings this amazing song he wrote, dedicated to Lachlan—“I told him to do that,” Michael whispered—much to Kate’s obvious astonishment.

The awesome thing was, her dad was there through it all, supporting her, holding her. Loving her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Shae.” I spin around. Only it’s not just Shae. It’s Shae, Mum, Dad, Sean, Sally, Scott and Steve.

“We are so proud of your Kate.” Mum grabs me and pulls me into her bosom where I choke on her Revlon perfume.

“And of you,” Dad interjects. He places one hand on my shoulder.

“Always.” Mum smiles. Tears glisten in her eyes, and in that moment I know this is it. This is what I’ve needed, what I’ve craved from them for so long—and I hope like hell it’s here to stay. I feel like I matter. Like I matter to
them.

“And who’s this?” Shae puts her hands on her hips and looks directly at Michael, whose hands are latched around my waist as if he’s afraid I’ll float off at any moment.

And I love it.

There’s nothing bad about it.

“Michael.” He extends his hand and shakes with my brothers and sister. Mum wont accept his offering, however, and brings him in for another hug filled with way too much boob and perfume, and not enough air. I know, because he coughs. Twice.

“My boyfriend,” I add, to make sure there’s no confusion.

“Congratulations,” Steve says.

“Make sure you take care of her, son,” Dad says. He folds his arms across his chest, and even though I know I should be mortified, I’m kinda thrilled. Because he’s acting like a douche. A douche who
cares
. And I can’t argue with that.

“Rain dance.”

The words ring out through the room, a screeching, masculine cry over the shrill female voices that are humming to the tune of Lee Collins.

My eyes scan the crowd for the one person I am fairly sure who would be the source of the noise.

Kate’s dad.

“Rain dance time!”

He’s standing near the door, one hand on the handle, Deborah clutching his arms with her lips pressed so hard together, she could roll pasta through them.

“Come on.” I grab Michael’s hand and we push through the crowd, trying to get closer to the door.

“Raaaaaain dance.” Paul races outside into the pouring rain, his arms spread wide, welcoming the damp.

Voices still as everyone focuses on the man with the disease in the rain. A few cameras flash.

“Hmph! Crazy,” a woman says near me, nudging her friend’s arm. I give her a right good elbow to the waist. She gasps, and I tilt my head to the side and shrug. Manners, people.

Then something happens that makes my heart explode with pride. Kate grabs her mum’s hand, and together they go racing out into the rain, joining Paul there.

Water drenches their clothes, sticking them to their skin. Kate’s hair is plastered against her head, but she has this big, ridiculous grin on her face.

I don’t know if she’s ever looked more beautiful in her entire life.

“Rain,” Paul calls, and he strips off his jacket, letting it rest in the gutter in a wash of dirty water
.

Seeming not to care, Kate grabs his hand offers it to Deborah. They share this look so intense, so full of freaking love, that I swear something inside of me melts. Even though they’ve gone through this crazy illness, this crazy disease, they’re still in love.

Michael squeezes my hand. I shoot him a grin.

What was the point in fighting it?

“Kate!”

We’re in the doorway before I know what I’m doing, and then we’re running through the rain. I squeal as the first drops hit my face, then twirl around, embracing the feel of the warm drops as they land on my skin.

“Woo!” I scream, throwing my hands up in the air, a smile on my face.

I spin and am taken by the waist and twirled through the air, the hands then pulling me close so that Michael can plant a kiss on my cheek.

“We can do better than that,” I whisper, grabbing his jaw and pulling it close to my face until his lips press against mine and we’re kissing. His tongue pushes its way into my mouth, duelling with mine, and my hands search his back, desperate to feel his well-defined muscles again. The water causes our clothes to stick to us and it only makes it easier for me to feel his erection through his pants, and it somehow makes me want him all the more.

When we pull away I see that Lee Collins is out here too, talking to Kate, and I look over then glance back at Michael and grin.

“Right?” I ask.

“Right.” He grins, and there’s a look in his eyes that signals that he gets it. He gets how excited I am that Lee is talking to Kate, seeing how insanely beautiful she is in this moment.

He gets that Kate deserves a second-chance with this guy who Michael clearly approves of, because when you’ve been friends with someone for as long as Kate and Michael have, you don’t let new people walk in and trample over your mate’s life.

Michael gives my hand a squeeze, and the look in his eyes—lust, desire, but something more—something like
love
?—it hits me, straight to the core.

He gets me.

And I freaking love that.

I glance at my watch, grinning like a maniac as the clock strikes past midnight.

“You know it’s been eleven weeks to the date since I kissed you for the first time?” I smile.

“But it’s been five years since I first fell in love with you.”

Five years.

Eleven weeks.

A lot can happen in a short period of time: pain, heartbreak, love, loss … and sometimes, something can grow from those ashes. It can rebuild you, heal you in ways you never imagined possible. It can find scars you’d forgotten, rip them open and cover them anew.

That’s who I am today. I dove to my lowest low in order to become Stacey, but healed. Stacey, but accepted. Stacey, but loved.

Sometimes, you just gotta let the rain in.

Read other books by Lauren K. McKellar

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Eighteen-year-old Kate couldn’t be more excited about finishing high school and spending the summer on tour with her boyfriend’s band. Her dad showing up drunk at graduation, however, is not exactly kicking things off on the right foot—and that’s before she finds out about his mystery illness, certain to end in death.

A mystery illness that she could inherit.

Kate has to convince everyone around her that her father is sick, not crazy. But who will be harder to convince? Her friends? Or herself?

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Praise for
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“Heartbreaking, life-affirming—one of my all-time favourites.”

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“McKellar pushes all of your buttons as a reader.”

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